Something Wicked
by Destiny Rain Evans
Summary: Charles and Raven are fae, cast out into the mountains to live out a life of isolation. They live peacefully until the day the king comes, off to war. With him is another fae with ice blue eyes and the ability to move the metal within the earth. Haunted by visions of the blue-eyed fae's death, Charles moves to save him and accidentally unleashes something wicked upon the earth.


**A/N: So I was watching Fassbender's Macbeth and got inspired, so I guess this is a Macbeth AU if you squint** ** _real_** **hard. But this isn't a retelling or anything, it's just inspired by it. Also, the soundtrack for Fassbender's Macbeth is super good and creepy and inspired this story so if you want to give it a listen, it's really good :).**

 _The fog drifted over the lake, parting before the broken stone of the castle. Moss and other earthly things grew from the crags and hollows in the stone, feeding on the mist that muffled sound and blinded sight._

Charles opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling.

Raven knocked on the bedroom door, "Charles, you have to get up. This isn't time for one of your trances."

Charles got to his feet, shoving open the door, "Who's coming?" He could see it in the panic in her face, feel it in the fear leaking from her mind like water from a cracked bowl.

Raven shifted uncomfortably, pulling her sleeves down over her blue hands, "The King and his men. They are dressed for war."

Charles swallowed, "I'll be right out."

Raven nodded, "I'll be in here."

Of course, the king wasn't to lay eyes on the fair folk like Raven, whose magic lay in their skin. To lay eyes upon them was to be cursed. Her blue skin, engraved with foreign markings, her yellow eyes, so like those of a beast, her red hair, like the witches of the north, all had scared away everyone who had ever loved her, everyone but Charles. She'd repaid his love in kind, telling no one of the visions and nightmares he had at night that left his throat sore from screaming and his eyes burning from tears.

Charles dressed quickly, pulling a rough grey tunic over his pale, unmarked skin. He ran a brush through his soft brown hair. He'd seen himself once, in a nightmare. He'd thought, in the hallucination and disorientation of the dream, that he might be beautiful. He didn't have a mirror to discover if that was the truth.

He heard the clink of bridals outside, the soft snorts and wickers of horses. For a second, fear gripped him. Perhaps they had heard of the nighttime screaming that echoed down from their shack, or the way Charles could speak with the fae. Perhaps they had come to kill Raven, to drag her from their home and burn her alive with only oil painted on her legs so her skin would blister and spit as she died. Charles took a deep, steadying breath. He would do what was necessary to protect them. He opened the door, closing it carefully behind him. The king stared at him, a metal crown engraved upon his helmet. "My lord." Charles knelt, "What do I owe the pleasure?" His eyes caught on one of the king's men. His eyes were fixed on Charles, bright blue against the black paint of his face. There was something foreign about him, something violent and untamed. Charles felt interest flicker in his chest, along with a well of fear.

The king stared down at him, his eyes cold and merciless, "Water. For the horses."

Charles nodded, getting to his feet. The king's men began to dismount, breaking out rations. Charles tossed the bucket into the well, hissing with displeasure as he heard the bucket hit ice. A hand touched his, taking the rope from his fingers. The man with the blue eyes held his hand out over the well. The ground rumbled, the sound of ice cracking breaking the air. Charles stared at him, recognition coiling in his gut. _Fae._

The man dropped his hand slowly, his eyes piercing Charles' own.

"Erik," The king called.

The man held out the rope to Charles, not breaking that piercing stare. Then he turned away, and the spell was broken. Charles shook himself, lowering the bucket back down into the well.

"Is there anyone else here?" A young knight with a strange accent, almost musical, arched an eyebrow.

Charles glanced over his delicate features, dark hair, and darker eyes, "My sister."

The knight nodded, taking a swig from his water bottle. He tossed it at Charles' feet, "Fill it."

Charles picked it up, heaving the bucket back to the surface and dunking the bottle under the water. His back burned as if someone was staring at it.

"These lands belong to us, but they are more fae than human," The king glanced around, "see all manner of strange things here, boy?"

"We keep to ourselves, my lord," Charles brought the filled pig skin bottle back to the lord with the dark eyes. The lord took it, capping it and tucking it back into his saddlebags.

"And why is that?"

A tremor went down Charles' spine as the blue-eyed soldier spoke. His voice was deep and rough, as if he rarely used it.

"Is it, perhaps, that you are more fae than human?"

Charles turned, "I hold no loyalty to the fae."

The king glanced at the blue-eyed man, his yes unreadable, "We need more water."

Charles nodded, turning back to the well.

"It would be fitting, Erik, if we won these lands completely from the fae," the king glanced at the door to Charles' house, "for you to be their thane."

The blue-eyed soldier inclined his head, "As my king wishes."

Charles knew the fae who ruled these parts, the real rulers, would not take kindly to it. But he doubted the king would take kindly to his warning either, so he kept his mouth shut. He hauled the water in, taking the bucket to the king. The blue-eyed soldier took it from him, their hands brushing.

 _Blood. Thick and red. It littered the corpses on the ground and soaked the ground beneath them. The soldier's eyes were wide and blue, unblinking. Charles' eyes followed the lines of his body down to the knife embedded in the flesh of his leg. Another body rotting on the field._

Charles' eyes flicked up to the blue-eyed knight. The knight took the bucket from him, drinking his fill. It was always eerie, to see something so horrible and have everyone else continue on as normal, oblivious to their fate.

The war party left not an hour later, off to the fields of blood-grass, where the carrion fae always fed well, and the crows ate what they did not. Charles walked back inside, his stomach heavy.

"You saw their death?"

Raven looked up from the bowl of soapy water she used to wash their clothes. She knew him too well, the pallor of his skin and the shadows under his eyes heralded a vision, and there was very little other than misfortune he saw in them.

"I did," Charles bent down to help her, "and there is nothing I can do."

Raven scrubbed at the clothes, "It is for the best. Those human men are monsters, just like their human king."

 _A white and red eye snapped between the beak of a crow, spilling liquid across the grass. Charles stood over the body of the blue-eyed man. His eyes were gone, ripped from his head by scavengers, his flesh already melding into the dirt. Charles bit back a gag at the sweet stench of rotting flesh._

His eyes opened, the wooden ceiling greeting him as it always did. Charles cursed, getting to his feet and dressing. The winter air was cold on his body, biting through his clothes as he took their horse and rode it in the direction the soldiers had gone. The wind blew toward him as the sun rose in the distance, orange and dull as it fought against the darkness of the night's domain. Charles could smell the stench of death on the wind. The air rang with the cries of swords and pain, hours dead. He pulled the horse to a stop at the edge of the battlefield, picking his way through the dead bodies, looking for those blue eyes. There was the king, there the dark-eyed knight. Charles reached the center, almost ready to turn back. A quiet gasp. The squelch of a dagger embedded in the flesh. Charles turned, his eyes falling on the blue-eyed man. He was gasping for breath, blood bubbling through his wound. Charles peeled off his outer layer, kneeling next to the soldier, "Hold still."

The soldier watched him with wild eyes. Charles pulled out the dagger, knowing there was no hope of getting the man back home without doing so, even if it endangered his life. Quickly, he used his shirt to bind the wound. "If you do not help me, I will not be able to get you onto the horse." He held out his hand.

The man, with great pain, raised his hand to grab it. The blood and filth that coated every plane of his body smeared against Charles' clean skin. Charles thought, for just a moment, that his hand would slip, but he tightened his grip. He dragged the man up, helping him mount. His feet slid in the mud, his body straining against giving in to the weight pressing against it. Then it was done. The man muffled a cry, squeezing his leg as a fresh flow of blood began to well from it. Charles tightened the cloth around it as best he could before mounting the horse. The man was warm against his back, and Charles prayed that wouldn't change. He clicked his teeth, egging the horse home.

The man was asleep by the time they arrived back at home, the sun almost fully risen though still hidden amongst the mist and clouds. Charles slipped down from the horse, the soldier falling after him. "Raven! Raven!"

She appeared in the doorway, eyes wide as she saw the soldier. Charles lifted under his armpit, dragging him toward the door.

"Help me," Charles begged, "I can't do it alone."

Raven shook herself from whatever trace of fear had overcome her. She lunged forward, grabbing the soldier by the other armpit and helping pull him inside. She went to the fire, pouring water into a pot and placing it over the flames. Charles stripped away the soldier's armor and clothes, grabbing bandages and medicinal herbs from the healer's kit he'd bought from a traveling fae. He knelt next to the man, unwrapping his ruined shirt. Blood pooled under the wound. Charles cursed, freezing. He'd never seen so terrible a wound before. Raven pushed him out of the way, cleaning the wound with her hot water and applying herbs to it to stem the bleeding while Charles remained frozen beside her. She rebound the wound with a clean cloth, leaning back to gauge her work, "You shouldn't have pulled the knife out."

"How else was I going to get him here?" Charles sighed with relief, the ice melting from his bones, "Thank you."

Raven packed up the medical supplies, "You brought a soldier into our house, Charles. I may have saved his life, but you have endangered us both." She got to her feet, "Help me get him into your room."

Charles spent the rest of the day cleaning the blood from the floors and the saddle. He led the horse to the stable, tending to it carefully. The horse was the only way to the nearest town and represented the largest chunk of what little they had. He came back in to find Raven cooking stew on the fire.

"How is he?" Charles knelt next to her.

"Sleeping," Raven poured the stew into a bowl, "wake him and ensure he eats this."

Charles took it and the wooden spoon she offered, stepping into the bedroom. Twin shards of blue stared out at him from the bed.

"You saved me."

It wasn't a question. Charles sat on the bed, filling the spoon with stew and holding it out, "Raven, mostly. Keep that in mind when you lay eyes upon her. Without her knowledge of healing, you would be dead."

The soldier sipped the stew from the spoon. He had a thick beard, trimmed short. Charles continued to feed him until the bowl was empty.

"Shaw."

"Who?" Charles put the bowl on the floor. He'd have to clean it later.

"The king." The man stared at him with those piercing eyes.

"Dead." Charles looked down at his hands. They were clean. He'd scrubbed them until the skin was red. No trace of the bloody mud that coated the man's body remained. "I saw his body and the body of the other dark-eyed knight. You were the only one I found alive."

The man swallowed, leaning back on the bed, "You knew it would end in slaughter." It wasn't a question.

Charles' heart skipped a beat. Did the soldier blame him? "I saw it when you touched my hand. I see things like it. I saw it in my dreams last night. No good thing can come from me ignoring them, not when they're so…forceful. I only saw you, so I only intervened with you."

The man nodded, his eyes flickering shut. His breathing slowed, his chest rising and falling with the softness of sleep.

Charles got to his feet, taking the bowl back into the living room, "I'll sleep on the floor tonight."

Raven tossed him one of her blankets, wordlessly curling up in her own bed across the room from the fireplace.

"Charles?"

Charles opened his eyes.

"You brought him here." Raven's eyes were piercing, "If he tries to hurt us, I'll throw you to him so I can escape."

 _ **A/N:**_ ** _So, what do you think? Should I continue the story? Let me know :)_**


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